


I Hate Love Songs (But I Love You)

by ofpinetreesandcampfires



Series: Chowen Fics [5]
Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV), Julie and The Phantoms (TV) RPF
Genre: M/M, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:27:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29457480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofpinetreesandcampfires/pseuds/ofpinetreesandcampfires
Summary: I hate Shakespeare and Gosling and cakes with white frostingTwo names in a heart-shaped tattooI think Cupid is stupid and violets are purple not blueI hate catching bouquets, the honeymoon phaseAnd letterman jackets don't fitYour eyes can't hold stars and you'd die if your heart really skippedI hate pink hearts with glitter and Valentine's dinnerAnd roses just die in a weekWe were drunk when we met so we don't know our anniversary, woopOh and I'm far too vain to kiss in the rainThe clouds, they aren't numbered to nineAnd you make me feel something but it sure as hell ain't butterflies--- I Hate Love Songs, Kelsea Ballerini***Kissing in the rain didn’t sound romantic because your socks would get soggy and rain would run down the back of your spine and you could get a cold. And arrhythmia was a problem for a lot of people, so having your heart skip didn’t sound pleasant either.Love itself didn’t sound pleasant.Now, with Charlie smiling at him, toothy and smug, Owen gets it.
Relationships: Charlie Gillespie/Owen Patrick Joyner
Series: Chowen Fics [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2088375
Comments: 5
Kudos: 34





	I Hate Love Songs (But I Love You)

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BELATED VALENTINE'S DAY!
> 
> I wanted to finish this yesterday but I got distracted by all the games on my phone. Curse my ADHD.

Owen is not a very pro-Valentine’s Day person, but he’s not anti either. He’s just... neutral towards it. He’ll watch Charlie get emotional during _The Notebook_ , but he doesn’t get it. There are so many things that are part of Valentine's Day culture. Owen _does_ like the discounted candy that the day after Valentine’s Day brings, but that’s about it. He’s never found a letterman jacket that fits his frame and he thinks Valentine’s Day dinners advertised _everywhere_ are always too expensive. Go to McDonald's, get some fries, and pig out on the couch with a loved one.

But Charlie’s here and it’s Valentine’s Day tomorrow and he has no idea what to do. Charlie _loves_ Valentine’s Day in a way that Owen will never understand. He stands, leaning against the armchair diagonal from Owen, a smile on his face and a beer bottle in his hand. He’s wearing one of his sleeveless shirts, the one that shows off his muscles and the slits are wide enough to show off his "boobs" as Owen likes to call them. His new tattoo ripples when he breathes. Owen watches as Charlie picks at the label on his beer, his beanie hiding his eyes from view.

It’s been a hell of a day. Waking up late, going to the gym, just generally hanging out. He remembers the feeling of Charlie gently tracing the outline of his still healing tattoo as they lay in bed, the brunette’s soft sigh against the back of his neck.

“Do you wanna, uh, do anything tomorrow before you have to leave?” Owen stumbles over his words. “We could get one of those fancy dinners or, uh, champagne or…” His voice fades out as Charlie looks up. His eyes are twin pools of burning sea glass chips, blues and greens and gold and the intensity makes him shut up and a shiver race down his spine.

Charlie keeps his eyes on Owen as he comes from behind the armchair and puts his beer down on the coffee table. He doesn’t even blink as he offers his hand to Owen. The blonde hesitates for a moment before he places his hand in Charlie’s and allows himself to be pulled into the space in front of the TV. Charlie pulls him close and Owen can feel the heat between their bodies. It simmers into something that settles low in his gut as Charlie puts a hand on his shoulder and the other around his waist. Like they’re about to start waltzing.

There’s no music, but Charlie starts humming a melody under his breath. Owen recognizes the song and rolls his eyes as Charlie begins to sing.

_And your heart's against my chest_  
_Your lips pressed to my neck_  
_I'm falling for your eyes_  
_But they don't know me yet_

Charlie croons the song where he rests his head on Owen's shoulder and Owen feels like he's going to roll his eyes right out of his head. He can feel Charlie's breath against his neck. Owen wants to reach up and cover Charlie's mouth with his hand because he _hates_ cheesy love songs. And this is the biggest one of all in some way.

But then Charlie goes back to humming the song instead of singing it. The heat builds up and up and up in Owen’s body, burning like fire as he stares into Charlie’s firework eyes. No words needed. He can just _feel_ the intensity between them. One of them is going to break sooner or later.

Charlie spins him out and back into his arms and they break at the same time. The momentum of Owen spinning out and back into Charlie, their lips meeting in a harsh kiss and their dance turns into a tussle. Owen pushes Charlie up against the wall next to the TV, pinning the brunette with the full weight of his body. Charlie whimpers into his mouth and pulls away to inhale harshly against the side of his cheek, wiggling against him.

There’s so much heat and flame between them and Owen’s brain goes fuzzy as he and Charlie stumble their way back to his bedroom. Sometimes it’s Owen pressing Charlie against the wall and sometimes it’s the opposite. But, when they get to his room, Owen pushes Charlie down onto the bed and the brunette goes willingly. He looks up at him with so much love and care and heat in his fireworks eyes that Owen can’t help but follow him down.

* * *

Owen wakes up feeling exhausted and like he just ran a marathon at the same time. He takes a deep breath and rubs at his eye, leans his head on his hand, arm digging into the mattress. Owen looks around when he doesn’t feel another body in bed next to him.

“Charlie?”

He squints and sees a shadow crossing the thin hallway from the bathroom.

 _Damn_.

Charlie stands, leaning his hip against the wall at the entrance between the bedroom and hallway, a soft smile on his face. He’s bare-chested with only a pair of boxers on and one of Owen’s button-up shirts loose around his shoulders, the edge of his tattoo visible when he breathes and the shirt shifts. Owen blushes when he notices a constellation of bruises scattered across his body, centered on his hips and almost a collar around his neck.

“Hey.”

He kind of swaggers over to the bed, collapses onto _his side_ and Owen still can’t believe Charlie has his own side in Owen’s bed in Owen’s house. In Vancouver, sleeping in the same bed became kind of like a comfort thing and in Hawaii, it was a sex thing. Now, here, in this moment, it’s about more than both those things.

Last night had been more than sex. It had been the closest Owen’s ever felt to love. There had been a long stretch of his life where, while he knew he loved his friends and his family and his dogs, it hadn’t been the same level his friends would express. Savannah would gush about how a guy gave her roses and all Owen could think of was how that rose is just going to die in a week. Dani spoke about having a new crush every week on different people and she kissed this girl in the rain or that guy was adorable and made her heart skip and beat. Kissing in the rain didn’t sound romantic because your socks would get soggy and rain would run down the back of your spine and you could get a cold. And arrhythmia was a problem for a lot of people, so having your heart skip didn’t sound pleasant either. 

Love itself didn’t sound pleasant.

Now, with Charlie smiling at him, toothy and smug, Owen gets it. Not the kissing in the rain or spending a billion dollars on romantic dinners or roses or being excited about arrhythmia. Love. He understands love. At least a little bit better than he did before.

“Hey.”

“Thought you might've left.” Owen hates the fact that his stomach twists at the thought of Charlie leaving again, but he did have to be on the road if he wants to make it back in a reasonable time. There’s nothing calling him to LA, but he’s been away for so long. 

“No, I don't have to leave for…” Charlie holds his wrist up and looks at it as if there's a watch, which, of course, there isn't. “At least twenty minutes ago.” Charlie’s voice sounds like molasses, syrupy and sweet and he leans in. Owen smiles into the kiss. Charlie laughs against his mouth until they’re both giggling. When Charlie pulls away, Owen begins to play with the silky brown strands of his long hair. It must have fallen out of its bun sometimes last night while they were rolling around, tangled in the bedsheets and each other. His rings brush against soft skin and Owen smiles. “What's that face?” Charlie asks, that toothy smile still in place.

“What face?” Owen responds with a rasp in his voice, his smile softer and smaller but still mirroring Charlie’s. 

“That face.” Charlie pokes at one of the dimples that form when he smiles.

Owen rolls his eyes but it’s like his smile is permanent etched on his face. “I’m happy.”

Charlie laughs as he surges forward, kissing Owen softly but with force behind it. Owen sneaks under the open front of his own shirt draped over Charlie’s body, warm skin against his fingers as he traces up the other boy’s stomach. Charlie flexes and whimpers against his mouth, climbing on top of the blonde and settling against him.

Heat zips down his spine with every press of their lips, with the way Charlie nibbles on his bottom lip, with the press of their bodies together as Charlie gives in and rests his full weight against Owen. Charlie slips his finger under Owen’s chin and tilts it up for a better angle. 

“I could kiss you forever,” Owen whispers as the brunette pulls away to suck in a break. 

“My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss,” Charlie mumbles and then laughs, a loud booming laugh at Owen’s affronted look.

Owen sits up and glares, groaning when Charlie resituates himself on his lap. “Dude, do you want to ruin the mood?”

“I thought Shakespeare was romantic?” Charlie shrugs.

Owen scoffs and buries his hands in Charlie’s long hair, fingers meeting at the nape of his neck, and tugs him roughly to his lips. Shakespeare might be okay for the stage, but he does not want to hear Charlie recite it just before they’re about to have sex. Because that’s what’s happening here.

The brunette shifts and licks his lips and Owen’s thoughts on Shakespeare go out the window as Charlie trails his lips down Owen’s naked chest, hair dragging behind him, firework eyes shifting between green and blue and amber and gold, heat simmering in Owen’s chest at the love that shines through.

* * *

After spending most of the morning in bed, only watching Charlie get up to make them some breakfast with whatever he can scrounge up with the minimal groceries Owen keeps. He’s one person, so it’s not like he’s feeding an army. Charlie surprised him with another visit, which means he didn’t even have time to go shopping. While they were away in LA to get tattoos, Owen didn’t want food that could spoil in his fridge or on the counter.

So, after eating bowls of cereal in their underwear and watching some show Charlie’s been binging, the two of them pack up some of the brunette’s stuff into the back of the rental car. Owen’s going to his parents later to have dinner there and pick up Bindi, bring her back to the apartment so he can have somebody around while Charlie isn’t. The stuff they don’t put in the car goes into the storage closet halfway between the bathroom/bedroom and the mirror at the corner that turns into the main area of the house. Although Charlie _could_ pack up his whole life in the car and be on his way, both of them know that he’ll be back. It’s only a matter of time.

They stand by the door of Owen’s apartment. Charlie rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet, hands shoved into the pocket of his sweatshirt. It's got a little V in the front and Owen can see the corner of yet another bruise against his skin. He didn't mean to mark up the other boy, didn't mean to get almost possessive and there's a little part of him that kind of hates it. However, he watches Charlie realize what he's looking at and the brunette smiles, touches one of the brands Owen left on his skin almost reverently. Owen shakes himself out of his musing and smiles, feels Charlie's other hand brush against his.

“Bag?” Owen asks.

“I got it.” Charlie looks behind him before he scrambles over to his gym bag, slings it over his shoulder sheepishly. He must have dropped it before their dance last night and forgot to bring it into the bedroom. Owen knows there’s an extra toothbrush and shower stuff in there, but there hadn’t been time to do anything while in the throes of passion.

“Scarf?” It’s hanging out of Charlie’s bag and Owen grabs it, wraps it around Charlie’s neck. It’s soft and a bit wonky, a mix of blues and pinks and purples with threads of silver hanging off the ends like tassels. It’s clearly well-loved, even if it looks like an amateur did it. Which, Owen knows, an amateur did. Maddie got bored one day and announced in the group chat that she was making everyone scarves and, no, they weren’t allowed to choose the colors. So there are gaps in the stitching and it’s a little uneven, but Charlie’s been wearing it _everywhere_ and Owen knows he couldn’t have been prouder of his newly obtained little sister and her homemade scarf.

“What - oh!” Owen uses his hold on the scarf to pull Charlie close and press a kiss to his smiling mouth. "Mm. Hmm.” The blonde pulls away before coming back in, pressing kisses to Charlie’s cheeks and chin and jawline and right next to his eyes until Charlie’s laughing and squirming gently against his hold on the scarf. He stops moving, however, when Owen kisses his smiling mouth, soft and caring and Owen wants to keep him so that he can kiss him all the time. Just like this. 

“Listen, Charlie, we....”

“No. No, no, no.” Charlie presses a finger to his lips, ring cold against his skin. “Don't ruin it.”

The blonde kisses his finger before he pushes his hand out of the way and smiles. “You didn't even know what I was gonna say.”

“Well, I'm assuming it starts with, ‘What are we?’ And then ends with, ‘Going to tell Maddie? And Jeremy and Savannah and Kenny and Tori.'”

“They should know.”

Maddie’s been their biggest fan, even arguing with Jeremy, quite loudly, about who was the biggest _Chowen_ shipper. The name sounds stupid, especially when they’d used them in Hawaii while filming that 8-bit melody thing for _Seventeen_. Before now, it had just been a fun thing, the two of them exploring this unexplained connection that’s been between them since they first met at auditions. Instant chemistry. Owen remembers getting a text halfway through Vancouver filming from Maddie with that vine about roommates. But they’d kept whatever they had under wrap, away from the media that would definitely converge on them once the season dropped.

Last night had been the first time they’d put words to their relationship. And Owen kind of hates that they could consider Valentine’s Day their anniversary. It’s cliché and stupid, but Owen knows Charlie’s gonna be giddy about it because the other boy _loves_ Valentine’s Day. Their first “ _I love you_ ” had been exchanged last night, right after coming down from the heat of passion. Charlie had fallen onto Owen’s chest, panting out the words, tangling their fingers together over his rapidly beating heart.

After they’d showered off the sweat and other things, they’d talked about what they were. _Boyfriends_. Owen could now call Charlie his boyfriend. Not in public-- he wasn’t ready for the onslaught of whatever the fans would think of that-- but Owen knows it and Charlie knows it. That’s all that matters.

“I know they should know,” Owen mumbles as he untangles his fingers from the scarf. He buries his face between the fabric and Charlie’s neck, hugging the brunette to his chest. “I just don't know when they should know it.” He kisses one of the dark bruises he painted across Charlie’s neck, the one right over his pulse point, and Charlie whines.

"Well, Jeremy _definitely_ knows that something is going on between us,” Charlie says, fingers tight against Owen’s shirt. “I mean, we weren’t subtle when we were all together. And it’s gonna blow Maddie’s mind.”

“Yeah, but can't we just let ourselves enjoy one secret, selfish day before that happens?”

“Maybe we--”

“No, Charlie.” Owen pulls away and cups Charlie’s face in his hands, thumbs brushing against his cheeks. They can listen to Maddie scream at them some other day about finally getting together and Jeremy saying ‘ _I_ _told you so_ ’ and Kenny, Tori, and Savannah giving them knowing looks. Especially Savannah because she’s been pushing Owen to actually ask Charlie out since they were at boot camp. She’s gonna be so fucking smug when they tell her. She'd told him to grow some balls and ask the other boy out and goddamn he did. “This is our time. Just one day? One day?”

He holds up one finger and looks at Charlie with pleading, puppy dog eyes.

Charlie chuckles, shaking his head and tugging at a strand of Owen’s hair that wasn’t long enough to get swept into a bun. “OK, one day,” he relents, but he’s smiling and there’s a twinkle in his eye.

“Yes.” Owen fist-pumped and Charlie laughs, a loud and full laugh, before he sweeps Owen into a hug, nuzzling against his neck. When Charlie pulls back to smile at him, Owen can’t help but kiss him again. He knows Charlie has to leave soon, but he doesn’t want to let him go.

“I love you,” Charlie mumbles against his lips and Owen feels his nails almost through the fabric of his thin shirt. “I don’t wanna go.”

“I don’t want you to leave either.” It sucks. That Charlie lives so far away. That this pandemic is a thing. That they want to keep their relationship a secret-- although that’s more because Owen likes to keep his private life private-- and he knows Charlie’s itching to scream that they’re dating to the world. “But we’ll see each other, I promise.” Owen tangles his fingers in Charlie’s hair, still a little damp and down, curling a bit at the ends, soft against his skin. 

“Isn’t it funny that you hate Valentine’s Day and our anniversary will technically be Valentine’s Day?”

“That’s it. We’re breaking up.” Owen jokingly pushes Charlie away but doesn’t let him get far before the brunette’s coming back to him, hugging him around the waist.

“You looooove me,” Charlie sings.

“No,” Owen pouts, “I hate you.”

The brunette shakes his head and peppers Owen’s face with kisses until the blonde’s giggling just like Charlie was last night in bed, ticklish and squirming against him. Charlie needs to leave if he wants to make good time and Owen can’t hold him here any longer.

“Okay, you need to go before I lock the door and never let you leave.”

“That’s hot.”

“Charlie, I’m serious.”

“Me too.”

Owen rolls his eyes and chuckles. He presses one more deep, long, loving kiss to Charlie’s lips before he pulls away.

“I love you,” he whispers, quieter. It’s a soft thing between them. For all the teasing and ribbing and joking, Owen feels the most content saying those words in Charlie’s arms now that they’re free from his lips. “I love you.” He says it again and again and again like he’s trying to fill them both with whatever power the words hold for however long they’re going to be apart again. “Love you.”

“I love you, too, O.” Charlie settles to match the softness and kind of curls his whole body into Owen’s like a blanket and sighs.

If this is how today is going, Charlie might be getting home later than he thought.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by two of my favorite Delena scenes from The Vampire Diaries. Might end up using another scene for a fic in the future.
> 
> I hope the whole cast, and you guys, had an amazing Valentine's Day with loved ones.
> 
> Let me know what you thought!


End file.
